


Waking Up After Snow

by Mister_Apology



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, It's rated General Audiences right now but they do it so much later trust me you guys, Making Out, POV Alternating, Post-Canon, Reincarnation, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Apology/pseuds/Mister_Apology
Summary: With the war finally over, Byleth and Rhea have uncontested rule over Fódlan. Adjusting to their new roles and duties, as well as the changes still occurring within Byleth, will be difficult, but so long as they have one another, they know they can create a bright future.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Rhea
Comments: 15
Kudos: 67





	1. Prologue - Rhea: Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Rhea recuperates after her captivity and Gareg Mach prepares for battle against the Agarthans, she gets to have a much needed heart to heart with Byleth

Rhea had always found the sensation of drifting in and out of sleep to be oddly similar to flying, especially when she let the wind lift her wings and carry her. Floating on air currents, passing through banks of clouds, allowing her sight to be obscured and the water vapor to cool her, feeling the warmth on the sun on her back; it was pleasing to compare the experience to finally being back in her own bed after five years of captivity. The chamber she had been held in within the imperial palace at Enbarr had not been deliberately uncomfortable, but it was still a stark contrast to losing herself in warm pillows and blankets.

She finally stirred, brought back fully into consciousness again, by hushed whispers outside of her door. It would’ve been too quiet for a human to pick up, but her ears were far superior to theirs. Her sense of smell was too, and though she couldn’t make out the voices, she instantly recognized their scents. Rhea slowly sat up and swung her legs out of bed. Her feet bumped into something warm. Curious, she looked down and smiled at the sight of a pair of fuzzy pink slippers. No doubt they had been Flayn’s idea. Rhea slipped into them and shuffled her way to her door. The voices on the other side became more distinct as she approached. 

“Professor, believe me, I completely understand your concern, but Rhea is in a delicate state at the moment. She is in no condition for visitors. If there is something you need to let her know, please tell me, and I will be happy to inform her.”

Seteth’s voice; very firm, yet still gentle, expressing warmth for both herself, as well as the person he spoke to. 

“I know, Seteth. It’s just... I _need_ to see her. I can’t explain it any better than that. I have to know that she’s alright. I promise, I won’t wake her up.”

Byleth’s voice; soft, and just a bit hesitant, but there was something off about it. 

Fear, uncertainty, and confusion tinged each of her words, and the effect they had on Rhea was devastating. Byleth was so agitated that she was speaking multiple sentences at a time, something Rhea could count the number of times she’d heard on the fingers of one hand. If Seteth felt even a tenth of what she could, and she was fairly certain he did, then it was an extreme act of will on his part not to embrace the professor and try to comfort her. 

Rhea took a breath to calm herself before she opened her door. Byleth and Seteth stood facing one another, in profile to her. Seteth held his hand in a fist at his side, strong enough that his knuckles had turned white. He looked as though he had just unwittingly kicked a puppy. It was no wonder. Byleth hung her head, her eyes were downcast, fixed on the floor. She held her hands behind her back and her fingers twisted themselves into knots of anxiety. If Rhea was human, the sight would make her heart ache. Instead, she felt a dull pain in the center of her chest. 

Byleth and Seteth spun to face her. They were both clearly chagrinned at having risen her. Rhea smiled, trying to put them at their ease. “Do not be concerned,” she reassured, “you did not wake me.” She turned her gaze to Byleth and made her voice as gently as she could. “Did you wish to speak to me, dear child? You may come in, if you like.”

“N-no,” Byleth stammered, not meeting her gaze. “I’m sorry. Seteth’s right. It’s important to rest. I just...” she trailed off. “I just needed to see you,” she whispered.

Rhea tried not to frown. In all the times they had spoken to one another, Byleth had never been this ill at ease. It was obvious there was more troubling the young woman than just concern for her. 

“You never need to apologize to me, Professor. It would please me a great deal if you were to come have a chat with me. It’s been so long since we’ve been able to have a conversation between just the two of us.”

“Rhea,” Seteth interjected, clearly worried for her, “please reconsider. Your health-“

“Is improving steadily,” she said, silencing him with a look that she had not used in a long time, one that could only be given by an older sister to her younger brother. “I have no doubt that a conversation with our dear professor will improve it further.”

Seteth gave her a tired smile, acknowledging his defeat. “As you wish, Lady Rhea. I shall wait at the bottom of the stairs to this floor.”

As he left, Rhea tilted her head towards Byleth. Even though it was just the two of them now, she still seemed nervous. “I really did mean what I said, Professor,” Rhea coaxed, taking a step back into her room. “It’s been more than five years since we’ve been able to speak to one another. I’ve missed our talks.” Seeing Byleth was still hesitant, she tried a different approach. “Would you mind terribly helping me back to bed?”

“Ah! Of course!” Byleth stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She offered Rhea an arm and walked with her back to the bed at the center of the room. 

As Rhea settled down she patted the other side of her bed companionably. “Please, sit.”

“I can use a chair.”

Rhea simply smiled, and continued patting her mattress. 

Still uneasy, Byleth walked over to the other side of Rhea’s bed. She shrugged off her coat and hung it on a chair in the corner of the room. Gingerly, she sat down opposite of Rhea. 

“Do you mind if I lie down?” Rhea asked as she lifted up the blankets. At a vigorous shake of Byleth’s head, she slipped back underneath the covers. “Now tell me, dear child, what has gotten you in such a state? I pains me a great deal to see you obviously so unhappy.”

Byleth looked away. “I don’t want to add to your burdens.”

Rhea reached out and patted her arm affectionately. “Trust me, listening to you would only make my burdens lighter, and by the sound of it, yours have been much heavier than mine as of late. I told you once before, in this room, I’m not the Archbishop. I’m just Rhea. You can just be you, as well.”

Byleth bit her lip. “Okay,” she said at last. She took a deep breath before continuing. “After I fell into that ravine, I was asleep for five years. When I woke up, everything was so different. I’m was glad that Seteth, and Flayn, and my students, and the knights, and everyone from the monastery was okay, but you were gone! You were gone and no one had any idea where you were, or if you were captured, or even if you were still alive! The last time I saw you, you had nearly been killed by demonic beasts, and then those dark mages showed up, and I wasn’t able to protect you!”

Byleth become more agitated as she spoke and the pain in her words sent pangs of remorse through Rhea. “There’s no need to feel guilt for that, dear child. _I_ was the one who couldn’t protect _you_.”

“You don’t understand, Rhea,” Byleth said, shaking her head in frustration. “ _I_ don’t understand it either, but I _have_ to protect you. I’ve known that ever since I met you when I first came to Garreg Mach. I just knew I had to make sure you were happy and safe. I don’t know why I knew that, I just _felt it_.”

Rhea tried not to let her guilt show on her face as Byleth’s voice became more desperate. Had this all been her doing? Another of her sins to torment the young woman before her?

“It’s not just you, either, I felt the same thing when I met Seteth and Flayn. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t question it, but then a few months ago I had the same feeling for a giant turtle we fought, and that’s when I realized there was something strange.”

That made sense, Rhea thought. Byleth had been extremely eager to please Seteth when she had first begun teaching, even when he was still wary of her, and she had been almost as frantic as him when Flayn went missing, nearly tearing up half the monastery searching for her whereabouts. Rhea had just attributed it to the professor’s kindness and easygoing nature, but a giant turtle? That must’ve been Indech. Seteth had mentioned he had met him. As Byleth spoke, Rhea became increasingly certain this was a consequence of bearing her mother’s crest stone.

“It was awful enough when Flayn was kidnapped. It didn’t take long to rescue her. But I couldn’t look after you for _years_! When I woke up, I was so happy that everyone from the monastery was okay, but more than anything else I wanted to look for you myself, and take Seteth and Flayn with me and never let them out of my sight.” Byleth’s right hand had clenched around her left arm so hard that her nails were almost breaking her skin. Her voice was becoming more and more hoarse. “But that would’ve been selfish. Everyone was depending on me, looking up to me, needing me. I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t abandon all of them to look for you, not when you had asked me to lead the church in your absence.”

Rhea had only heard Byleth speak so much at once when she was teaching a class. Under other circumstances, she would’ve been happy to hear the young professor opening up to her, but every word out of Byleth’s mouth, laden with self-recrimination and confusion over her own feelings, was like a knife being driven into her stomach. She had done this to her, loaded her with the instincts and emotional intensity of a deity and then dropped the woman, barely more than a child herself, into a position of such responsibility. And yet _Byleth_ felt the need to apologize to _her_.

“I didn’t want lose you. I _couldn’t_ lose you. Not you, too. Not when...” 

As Byleth struggled to find the right words, Rhea raised her hand from beneath her blankets, palm up, and extended it to Byleth. “Dear child,” she said, putting all her energy into making her voice as soothing as possible, “I told you, you have never, nor will you ever, do anything you must apologize to me for. If you can no longer speak, we can simply remain here for a while. But please, just stop punishing yourself.”

Byleth hesitated, but lifted her hand away from her arm, where red welts had already begun to appear, and gingerly took Rhea’s. Rhea squeezed gently, earning her a brave, shaky smile. 

“Would you like to lie down with me?” Rhea asked, rubbing her thumb over the top of Byleth’s hand.

Byleth flushed and looked down. “That wouldn’t be proper.”

One corner of Rhea’s mouth quirked up, and she gave Byleth’s hand another squeeze. Her cheeks still red, Byleth removed her shoes and laid on top of the blankets. She rolled over onto her side to face Rhea. They laid facing each other for several minutes, the silence only disturbed by their steady breathing. Finally, Byleth took a deep breath.

“When I first came to the Garreg Mach, and met you, and Seteth, and Flayn, I felt something I couldn’t really describe. But I knew it was familiar. I knew that you were important, that I had to take care of you, that I had to keep you safe. I didn’t realize what it was until...” Byleth trailed off, choking just a little on her words. “Until Jeralt died. I understood it then, because what I felt when I met the three of you is what I always felt when I was near him.” 

Her next words were little more than a whisper, but they still pierced Rhea to the core of her being.

“You feel like family.”

Tears began to drip down Byleth’s cheeks. Hating herself for only being able to do so little, Rhea raised both her hands to clasp Byleth’s. 

“There’s so little I understand, Rhea,” Byleth said, almost pleading. “You told me once we were both blessed by the goddess, but I felt like this even before my hair and eyes changed. Seteth told me we’re all like family, but that can’t be all there is to it. He said you were responsible for my existence. Please, Rhea, I’m happy that I’m close to all of you, but if it feels like there are things that I _should_ know but I don’t, or that I’m not _allowing_ myself to know, and I’m not sure how much longer I can stand it!”

Rhea opened her mouth to speak, to confess, to tell Byleth everything that had been done to her, and how all of her pain and confusion was Rhea’s own fault. But she hesitated. More than a millennium of secrecy had made the truth a difficult thing to give. There was still so much at stake. Even with the empire defeated, Those Who Slither in the Dark were still out there, plotting to finish the genocide that they had orchestrated so many years ago. Telling Byleth the truth about both of their pasts could be too much for the poor girl, and Rhea herself wasn’t sure of the full extent of the consequences for using Sothis’ crest stone revive her when she was a baby.

“Dear child,” she said, not letting go of Byleth’s hands, “I cannot begin to tell you how much your sorrow pains me, especially when so much of it is because of me and my expectations for you. I know my captivity must’ve caused everyone to fear for my safety.”

Byleth shook her head slightly. “Knowing Edelgard had you actually made me less worried. I knew I still had to save you, but I at least knew you wouldn’t be hurt.”

Rhea tilted her head in puzzlement. “Whatever could be the reason for that?”

Byleth sighed, wiping her drying tears away from her eyes. “Edelgard was many things. Ambitious. Relentless. Driven. Uncompromising. But she wasn’t cruel. If she had captured you and decided not to kill you right away, then you weren’t in any danger of being harmed. She knew what it was like, to be tortured when in someone else’s power.” There was genuine sadness in her voice. “She wouldn’t let that happen to anyone else, not even you.”

Rhea considered what Byleth had said. She had dismissed Edelgard as nothing but a power hungry tyrant, but she couldn’t deny that she had been treated much better than what she had expected. While her confinement had weakened her a great deal, it had not been painful, and the one time Those Who Slither in the Dark had come to her cell, the emperor herself had arrived to drive them off. While Rhea in no way regretted her death as an enemy, she couldn’t help but begin to respect her as a person.

“I apologize, Professor, I did not mean to turn our conversation away from you,” Rhea said as she began to absentmindedly stroke Byleth’s hair, hair so very much like her own. “There’s so much I wish to tell you, but I fear it must wait until after we have prevailed at Shambala. I cannot ask you to be patient. You’ve already been patient enough for a lifetime. But I do ask that you trust me. I’ll tell you everything soon.”

Byleth sniffled. “That’s just what Jeralt said. And then he died.”

Grief once more shot through Rhea. How much had her own actions driven Jeralt away? If she had simply told him everything after Byleth had been born, would he still live? But it was hard, so hard, to open herself to others. The walls of lies she had made in the early days of the church to protect herself and her remaining family had become a maze she was now trapped in. 

“I know, sweet child. But you will learn everything soon. Whether it’s from me, or Seteth, everything will be made clear to you. I promise you that.”

Byleth closed her eyes and let Rhea continue to run her fingers through her hair. “All right,” she said at last. She opened her eyes and gazed into Rhea’s. “I’m just glad you’re safe now.”

Rhea smiled a relieved and very tired smile. But it like felt like Byleth was still holding something back. Perhaps it was their shared connection to Sothis, or simply the intimacy of the moment, but Rhea could sense there was still something else upsetting her.

“Professor, is there something still troubling you?” she asked, her voice laden with concern.

“Ah,” Byleth said, starting. She averted her gaze. “No. It’s selfish. I can’t bother you with it.”

Rhea frowned. “If you’ve learned anything from our time together, I’d hope it would be that voicing your concerns to me is in no way selfish. Please, I want to understand you.”

Byleth considered her words before speaking. “We’ll be fighting the Agarthans soon. It’ll be our last battle. The final fight before the war is over.” She paused after each sentence to think her way through what she was about to say. That was good, Rhea thought. If Byleth was back to her usual laconic speech again, it meant she was less upset. Then she said at last, in a very small voice, “I’m scared.”

“That is perfectly understandable, the Agarthans are a terrible enemy. But I know that you will prevail,” Rhea reassured. She knew just how dangerous the enemy of her people could be, but her faith in Byleth was far stronger than any fear she might’ve had of them. “You have not only my faith, but the faith of everyone who has rallied around you. The goddess has blessed you with her strength and protection.”

Byleth shook her head. “I’m not scared of the Agarthans.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. If it’s not our enemies, what could there be to frighten you?” Rhea asked, puzzled, and waited for Byleth’s answer.

“The Agarthans are strong, but I’m stronger. If it’s another fight, I know we can win. I’m good at fighting. I know how to do it.”

“Then,” Rhea said, thinking through what she had been told and what she knew of Byleth, “it’s not the battle you’re scared of, but perhaps what comes after?”

Byleth nodded. Gingerly, as if waiting for a rejection, she readjusted her left hand, the one that was still being held by Rhea, until they were both pressed palm against palm. She nudged her fingers against Rhea’s, who obligingly allowed Byleth into intertwine them with her own. Rhea brought her own left hand away from Byleth’s hair so that it could also be intertwined with Byleth’s right. They lay there facing one another, hands held and fingers clasped until Byleth could find the right words again.

“I’m very good at fighting. I was a good teacher because I was teaching everyone how to fight. I’m a good commander because a war is just fighting on a bigger scale. But fighting is all I can do. And fishing.” Rhea chuckled, and Byleth gave her a small smile. “The Kingdom fell, then the Alliance, then the Empire. We’re the only major power left. The war isn’t over yet and people are already talking about me becoming the leader of all Fódlan.”

Realization dawned on Rhea. “That’s what you’re scared of. You’re frightened of having that kind of responsibility.” 

Byleth nodded. “I can barely lead people in a time of war. I don’t have any idea how to lead people in a time of peace. I don’t know how to rebuild the world, or make people feel safe again, or give them a reason to think that tomorrow will be better than today. If I tried, I’d make a mess and only end up hurting everyone. But everyone’s already decided I should be the one to take power. There’s so many people looking up to me,” she murmured, tears beginning to form in her eyes again, “and I’m too big a coward to tell them that they’re wrong.”

Rhea felt sick to the pit of her stomach. Just how much of Byleth’s life had she made harder by her own selfish choices? Here Byleth was, on the cusp of becoming ruler of all Fódlan, just like Rhea had planned, and the poor girl was terrified. 

“Dear child,” Rhea whispered, moving a hand to caress Byleth’s cheek, “I can never begin to apologize enough for the hardships you have endured, both for my sake, and the sake of all the people who depend on you and look to you for guidance. But I can make you a vow.” As she said it, Rhea knew it was not just the right thing, but the only thing to do. It would not only be a promise to Byleth, and not only to herself, but to the memory of her mother as well. “I vow to never allow you to be forced to do anything you do not wish to do, nor to become someone you do not wish to be. The Church of Seiros will always support you. _I_ will always support you.” Byleth sniffled, but Rhea’s words seemed to put her at ease, and she offered a weak smile. Rhea smiled in return as she wiped away one of Byleth’s tears. “No matter what happens, I will always look after you, Byleth.”

Byleth’s eyes widened in surprise. Suddenly, tears began to form and fall faster than they had at any previous time during their conversation. Byelth’s breathing became fast and heavy and she began to sob in mere moments.

Rhea sat up in alarm. “Byleth? Byleth, what’s wrong?” she asked as she neared panic. 

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong,” Byleth managed to gasp as she fought to regain control over herself. “It’s just,” she sniffled. “It’s just that your the first person to call me that since Jeralt died.”

Now it was Rhea’s turn to be surprised. “ _No one_ has called you by name since your father died? You’ve gone more than _five years_ without hearing your own name?”

“I was asleep for most of it, but yes” Byleth said as she wiped away her tears. “Everyone just calls me ‘Professor’ instead.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I guess I missed it more than I thought.”

Rhea pulled Byleth up and embraced her, wrapping her arms around the other woman. Byleth was surprised at first, and wasn’t sure what to do with her own arms, but when Rhea gently rubbed her back, she returned the embrace, and rested her chin on Rhea’s shoulder.

“I hadn’t realized,” Rhea softly whispered into her ear. “I can’t imagine what effect that must’ve had on you. I can never take Jeralt’s place, I promise to always use your name with you. It can hurt, when you don’t hear your own name spoken to you.”

“Thank you, Rhea. If it’s not too much trouble, may we stay like this for a moment?”

“Yes. As long as you want, Byleth.”

Once they had finished holding one another, the two of them returned to laying on the bed. Rhea appreciated it, as it was becoming hard to stay awake. Although she had put on a brave face for Byleth and Seteth, the truth was she was deeply exhausted. Later, she would wonder if perhaps that was why she responded to Byleth’s next request the way she did.

“Rhea,” Byleth asked, a faint waver in her voice, “may I kiss you?”

“Of course you may,” Rhea answered sleepily.

In her drowsy state, Rhea did not fully register the full magnitude of the request. Instead, she recalled all the times, so long ago, when she was a young girl and Sothis would place a kiss on her cheek when they said their goodbyes, or on her forehead when she was going to sleep. No doubt Byleth was being influenced by her mother’s crest stone, the same way it caused her to feel kinship with Rhea and the other remaining Nabateans. 

She did not expect a kiss on the lips; quick, but nevertheless brimming with emotion.

Rhea’s eyes shot open when Byleth pulled back. Now wide awake, she stared in surprise at the woman facing her. Byleth had just kissed her. On the lips. That was almost certainly not an effect of bearing Sothis’ crest stone. 

She did not expect to want _more_.

Byleth blushed heavily and averted her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out as she rose to leave, “I overstepped. That was wrong of me.” As she swung her legs off the side of the bed, Rhea gently touched her wrist.

“Wait,” she whispered as she brought the fingertips to her other hand to her lips. “Please don’t go, Byleth.” Byleth might’ve fled anyway, but there was something about the tone of Rhea’s voice that made her perfectly still. “I think,” Rhea murmured, “I think I would like you to kiss me again.”

“Ah,” Byleth gasped. Somehow, she managed to turn even redder than before. “Okay.”

The two women laid back down facing one another. Hesitantly, they brought their faces closer to one another, until the tips of their noses were almost touching. They didn’t speak, but their breathing was heavy. Byleth closed her eyes and pressed her lips to Rhea’s once again. Once their lips touched, Rhea closed her eyes as well, and allowed herself to be engulfed by the pleasing sensation, returning the kiss. Without thinking, Rhea placed a hand on Byleth’s waist and drew her nearer, till their bodies were pressed satisfyingly against one another. Their closeness felt so natural that Rhea didn’t think twice when Byelth’s lips parted slightly. She simply took the invitation and slipped her tongue past the other woman’s teeth and into her mouth. Before either of them realized it, Byleth raised her right leg over Rhea’s hip and Rhea’s left hand had moved from Byleth’s waist to run her fingers through Byelth’s hair. 

They weren’t sure how long they laid kissing one another. It felt simultaneously like their kiss lasted a thousand years and yet not enough time at all. Byleth finally pulled away and gasped for breath. Byleth and Rhea stared into one another’s eyes as they panted, unable to look away. Once more, tears began to trickle down Byleth’s cheeks, and she pressed her face into the crook of Rhea’s neck.

“Rhea,” she spoke in a horse whisper, “I love you.”

Gently, Rhea pushed Byleth away from her just far enough for them to be face to face once again. Rhea tenderly kissed the tears away from her face as she pondered the meaning of this turn of events. She had spent more than a century attempting to create the perfect vessel to enable the resurrection of her mother. Rhea thought she done it with Byleth, and the disappointment she had felt when the young woman sat upon the throne within the holy mausoleum to no effect had almost destroyed her. What a fool she had been to have once wished for this amazing, wonderful, unique, precious person to disappear. Rhea knew she would likely never be able to forgive herself for making such a mistake, and she was never happier at being wrong in her entire life.

Rhea lifted her hands to Byleth’s cheeks and smiled from the bottom of her heart. “I love you too, Byleth. I love you so, so much.”

Byleth was still crying, but her return smile proved they were finally tears of happiness. They embraced again and gently rubbed their cheeks against one another. It was odd, Rhea thought as she nuzzled Byleth; she still felt exhausted, but the bone deep weariness that had set in upon her since even before being captured felt as though it was gradually fading. Perhaps it was an effect of being truthful after so many years of deception, or perhaps it was something else all together. 

Byleth eventually slowed her cuddling and blinked her eyes wearily. “I feel tired all of a sudden,” she managed to say through a yawn. “May I sleep here with you?”

“Of course," Rhea whispered as she placed one last kiss on her lips and smiled as her own eyelids became too heavy to resist, "my Byleth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned to write a couple more chapters before posting this, but Rhea's birthday is January 11th, so I decided I had to get something out then. This chapter and the next are just prologues, set during the events of the game, and most of this story will be post-canon.
> 
> Also, I know Seteth/Cichol, Indech, and Macuil, are all brothers, but I don't think the game explicitly says that Rhea/Seiros is their sister, but it's simpler to assume she is, so that's what I'm doing.
> 
> Anyway, happy birthday, Rhea, you absolutely superb lesbian dragon pope.


	2. Prologue - Byleth: Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Immaculate One's rampage, Byleth understands what must be done.

In the golden rays of the setting sun, Byleth madly dashed across the grounds of Garreg Mach. She did not think about the injuries she had received in battle. She did not think about the sword gripped in her hand. She did not think about her comrades’ cries to her, or their struggled to bring down the last of the rampaging golems, or their need to tend to their fallen. She did not think about anything at all. Byleth was driven by primal need to pursue Rhea as the wounded Nabatean tore through the sky, fleeing from the entrance to the monastery. The concept that she could not follow her was simply inconceivable. 

Even with her injuries, Byleth had no difficulty keeping pace with Rhea. She had been injured too, after all, much more so than Byleth herself. Besides, Byleth had long since noticed she had become stronger and faster since arriving at the monastery, to such a degree that she could usually keep pace with a horse at full gallop. A greater challenged was keeping track Rhea as she struggled to remain aloft, swerving behind buildings and out of Byleth’s sight, requiring Byleth to Byleth to listen for her pained screams to discern her trajectory. 

As she leapt over fallen rubble and unfinished repairs, Byleth became distantly aware of something in the back of her mind. It felt somewhat like conversation, yet it was far away and not something she could focus on, like a long forgotten dream, unable to be grasped even if she wasn’t in her current state of unthinking action. 

When Byleth finally caught sight of Rhea again, she was heading in the direction of the cathedral and quickly losing altitude. Byleth pounded across the bridge over the ravine between the cathedral and the rest of the monastery, the force of her footfalls so intense that thin cracks splayed out in the stone beneath her. A part of her waited for the resounding crash that would be imminent as Rhea collided with the cathedral or overshot it to fall to the ground beyond it, but Byleth continued to hear only the sound of her agonized screams. Instead, Rhea managed to drop through the massive hole in the building’s roof that had been made on the initial attack five years ago. 

Byleth dashed to the altar as Rhea was able to gain just enough control of herself once more to pull out of her dive and land on the ground before finally collapsing in exhaustion. Rhea attempted to rise once again, curving her back and arching her neck to the patch of sky visible through the ceiling. Byleth skidded to a halt as she collapsed for a final time, no longer capable of moving. Byleth watched Rhea impassively. At that moment, everything felt so far away, so unreal, that it was as if she was only experiencing the events secondhand, as through a book. It did not feel as if the woman she loved was almost certainly dying in front of her. It did not feel like anything.

Her eyes widened slightly as Rhea’s dragon form began to disintegrate before her. The scales falling away from her flaked off and rose into the air, like the petals of the lilies Rhea wore in her hair being caught in a gentle wind. Byleth dropped her sword as Rhea’s humanoid form reappeared in a flash of light. She floated gently, almost peacefully, to the ground, and Byleth hurried over to catch her in her arms.

As Byleth cradled Rhea’s head to her chest, the other woman let out a pained sigh. She turned her head to look up at Byleth, blinking slowly as the fading light of the sun obscured her vision. Rhea gave a small but contented gasp of recognition. 

“You’re here, Mother...”

With a small smile, Rhea closed her eyes and contentedly turned her cheek to press against Byleth’s bosom. As Byleth continued to hold Rhea to her, her breathing steadily became slower and weaker. Eventually, it stopped all together. 

Byleth gazed down at the lifeless woman. Despite the person she loved most having just died in her arms, she still felt nothing. Her expression did not, could not change. The revelations about her origins, the battle that had immediately followed, and the loss of Rhea were all too much, and so Byleth simply stopped feeling. Stopped thinking. 

Byleth allowed something deeper, something older and long dormant to take over. These tragedies were something no human being could handle. 

So she would just stop pretending to be human. 

“I’m here, Seiros. Mother’s here...”

The words were Byleth’s, and yet not Byleth’s.

Gazing down at her, **[Byleth/Sothis]** shifted her right hand from beneath Rhea’s shoulders to run her fingers through her hair. Hair so much like her own. After a moment, she turned her face away to look back through the doors of the cathedral. Even though it was so far away, **[Byleth/Sothis]** could hear the dwindling sounds of battle as the last of the bearers of the Crest of Seiros, driven mad along with their lady, were cut down by her friends and students. **[Byleth/Sothis]** could hear the clash of metal on metal and the screams of the wounded and dying of both sides as easily as if she was in the thick of the carnage. Still with no readable expression, **[Byleth/Sothis]** turned back to look Seiros’ face. 

**_“No. This is not acceptable. I will not allow it.”_**

**[Byleth/Sothis]** reached deep, deep within herself, drawing from a well of power she never knew was there, but was intimately familiar with all the same. A small part of her registered that it felt similar to how she used Divine Pulse to rewind time, but not quite the same. Distantly, she recalled a dream from months ago, when she had conversed with a man that should have been beyond conversation. Dimitri had died, but Byleth had still spoken with him. As if it was the easiest thing in the world, she called upon that sensation. 

**_"The war is over. The final battle already ended. No one is going to die today."_**

**[Byleth/Sothis]** took a deep breath, deeper than she had ever taken before. As she exhaled, a torrent of indescribable power washed out of her. Her legs suddenly became weaker, and she carried Seiros over to an undamaged pew. As she sat, she heard the distant sounds of battle come to an abrupt halt. **[Byleth/Sothis]** rested Seiros’ head in her lap and tenderly stroked her hair. Slowly, Seiros’ chest began to rise and fall once more. **[Byleth/Sothis]** gently caressed her cheek, marred by an large and bloody scrape. She whispered the words of a healing spell and set to work healing Seiros’ cuts, bruises, and broken bones. 

As she finished, **[Byleth’s/Sothis’]** ears pricked. She turned her head back toward the entrance to the cathedral, and a small sniff confirmed what she thought she had heard. Cichol and Cethleann were approaching, riding on Cichol’s wyvern. **[Byleth/Sothis]** gently rose and carried Seiros to the entrance of the cathedral, just in time to see the wyvern pass over the bridge and alight on the other side of the open gate.

Catching sight of **[Byleth/Sothis]** carrying Seiros in the light of the setting sun, Cichol and Cethleann jumped off of the tired wyvern and dashed over to them. Both were marked by the battle, but seemed to be mostly intact. Cichol seemed to be in better shape than Cethleann, and **[Byleth/Sothis]** guessed that she had healed him as they flew. 

“Professor,” Cichol managed to say as he gasped for breath. “Is Rhea... Is she...?” His face was pale, distraught by the answer he expected.

 **[Byleth/Sothis]** smiled and did her best to put him at ease. “Seiros is fine, Cichol. She just needs rest. How is everyone else?”

Cichol released an immense sigh of relief and pressed on hand against the wall, bracing himself as his knees shook. Cethleann went to her father’s side to support him. “I would not believe it if I hadn’t seen it myself, but while there are many injured, no one has received mortal wounds. In fact, just before we came here, people I would have sworn were dead were breathing. They were all in great pain, but they can be healed. Even those were transformed into white beasts changed back to normal.”

“Thank you, Cethleann.” **[Byleth/Sothis]** smiled, and the young woman smiled back. Shifting her grip on Seiros, **[Byleth/Sothis]** gently pressed a finger to Cethleann’s forehead and spoke another spell, healing her of her own injuries. 

“Professor,” Cichol spoke up once he had managed to regain his usual composure, “we should take Rhea to Manuela and the other medics, and let everyone know about both her and your wellbeing as soon as possible. Please,” he asked, extending his own arms, “let me take her.”

She smiled, but did not release Seiros. “She didn’t have any injuries that my magic couldn’t heal, and we both know mine is stronger than anyone else’s at Garreg Mach. Right now, she just needs rest, and being around so many other people wouldn’t help her. Besides, your wyvern looks almost as tired as you are.” Not waiting for a response, **[Byleth/Sothis]** began carrying Seiros across the bridge, and the other two Nabateans instinctively trailed behind her. “Cichol, Cethleann, the two of you should go back and tell everyone we’re safe. I’ll take Seiros to the third floor and stay with her until she wakes up.”

“Very well,” Cichol agreed as they parted ways after entering the main hall. “Please, just,” his voice cracked, “just take care of her.”

As Seteth and Flayn hurried through the main hall, Flayn glanced back the way they had come, and then up to Seteth. “Father?” she asked, tilting her head to one side to mull something over.

“Yes?”

“Did the Professor call us by our real names?”

~

 **[Byleth/Sothis]** sat on the side of Seiros’ bed, the other woman laying with her head in her lap. She caressed Seiros’ cheeks with her fingertips, gently, so as not to wake her up too soon. The warmth that rose within **[Byleth/Sothis]** was a comfortable and familiar sensation. She had often let Seiros sleep like this, many years ago, although she had been much smaller than she was now. However, **[Byleth/Sothis]** couldn’t help but feel something missing. 

Ah, yes. That was it. 

♪ _“In time’s flow... see the glow_  
_of flames ever burning bright...“_ ♪

♪ _“On the swift river’s drift_  
_broken memories alight...”_ ♪

Seiros stirred to wakefulness as the first starts began to shine. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and attempted to grow accustomed to the twilight.

“Moth... er...?”

“Hello, Rhea,” Byleth replied soothingly. She patted her head affectionately as she hummed the tune of her song. 

Rhea attempted to sit up. “I- I was asking you to lead Fódlan, and then I... I went...”

Byleth carefully guided her back into her lap. “It’s okay, Rhea. Everyone is fine. Everyone is going to all right.”

“But how-“

“Shh,” Byleth bent down and pressed a kiss to Rhea’s forehead. Just rest. Everything is all right. There’s no need to worry.” She kissed her again, this time on the lips. “Close your eyes, dear one. Sleep, just a while longer.”

Rhea sighed as she breathed in Byleth’s scent. Keeping her eyes open became difficult, and she faded back to sleep as Byleth stroked her hair. As Rhea fell asleep, Byleth was overcome with an intense, bone deep exhaustion. She felt as though all the weariness the had been pushing away had finally caught up to her, and it had brought friends. Suppressing a yawn, Byleth helped the still sleeping Rhea out of her dress and took off her tiara, and tucked her into her bed. She then stripped to her underclothes too and cuddled in beside her. Not long after, Byleth fell asleep as well.

~

Years later, that day would be recorded as one of the most significant in Fódlan’s history. It was the day that the war that had raged across the continent ended and peace finally, truly returned. Furthermore, the incredible survival of everyone who had fought at Garreg Mach, even those who had seemed to have been slain, marked this as the day of the first miracle of Byleth, ruler of Fódlan and progenitor god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is really where I get to the real crux of the story I want to tell, and it involves a whole bunch of head canons I came up with, which I kind of half to talk about here because I can't think of a good way to bring them up organically in the story. This is really long.
> 
> The game explicitly states that Byleth and Sothis aren't the same person, and that Sothis doesn't go away for good even after giving Byleth her power. This is implied by Byleth hearing Sothis' voice when she wakes up, Rhea mentioned she felt as though she talked with Sothis, and confirmed in Sothis' S Support. 
> 
> However, I thought it would be interesting if Byleth and Sothis really _were_ the same person. As in, Byleth is the true reincarnation of Sothis. In this context, the 'Sothis' that Byleth interacts with in game is essentially a mental construct, created from Byleth's unconscious, latent divine power, and memories of her past life. When Sothis merges with Byleth, it's her allowing herself to be reabsorbed into Byleth's psyche, allowing her to start gaining full control over her power. 
> 
> This blends in with another head canon I had. I played the CF, AM, and VW routes before I did SS, and romanced Edelgard, Mercedes, and Dorothea respectively. While Byleth loses her power in CF, she keeps it in AM and VW. This got me wondering about what effect it would have on her. I came to the conclusion that because in those two routes she married and was closest to humans, Byleth would keep suppressing her power, since she would want to stay human. However, in SS she marries Rhea, and the people closest to her are Seteth and Flayn, none of whom are human. So Byleth would have no need to keep trying to be human. This was backed up for me in the SS epilogue, which is the only one that says Byleth becomes "the mother of all life and arbiter of every soul". 
> 
> That's what happens here, where after Rhea dies and all the senseless loss of life in the battle, Byleth stops trying to pretend to be human, and embraces her power as the progenitor god so she can revive Rhea and all the other people who died.
> 
> This is the end of the prologue chapters, and everything else is what happens in post canon. That's also when the smut happens.


	3. Chapter 1 - Rhea: Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Rhea and Byleth's wedding day! Rhea's full of nerves and excitement, but begins to panic when realizes something she hadn't thought about before.

Rhea has never been much of a morning person, but these last few months she has always woken up before Byleth. She finds it odd, since by all accounts the other woman had always been something of an early riser, but ever since the war ended Byleth sleeps in until late morning, or even early afternoon, unless Rhea wakes her. Rhea doesn’t mind, and she can’t blame her for being so tired. Rallying the remnants of the Church and the liberated peoples of Fódlan against the Empire and the Agarthans had taken a heavy toll on Byleth. And if Rhea got to watch the woman she loved sleep for a little bit longer every morning, where was the harm?

Byleth has shared Rhea’s room since not long after the final battle of Garreg Mach, almost half a year ago. They have both been incredibly busy, overseeing the repairs to the monastery, organizing relief to regions most damaged by the war, and restoring the continent’s political infrastructure to ensure Byleth had every territory’s full support when she became the monarch of a unified nation. The two women have not had as much time together recently as they would’ve preferred, and their living together in the Archbishop’s chambers has been an insurance of their proximity to one another. 

They lay on their sides facing one another. Rhea silently gazes at Byleth’s sleeping face. They sleep so close to one another that Rhea can feel Byleth’s soft breath on her cheek. Their legs are intertwined, hands resting on one another’s hips, foreheads almost pressed together. Rhea is keenly aware that the only thing between them is the thin fabric of their nightgowns. Byleth has lovely eyelashes, and Rhea always cherishes seeing them flutter whenever she starts to wake up. 

Part of Rhea wants to continue lying beside Byleth all day, but the rest of her knows that it can’t last. Besides, this will be a big day for the both of them, and it will be important to get an early start. Rhea places a kiss on both of Byleth’s eyelids, but she earns only a faint stir, so she keeps gently kissing Byleth across her cheeks, nose, and forehead, until the other woman finally awakes.

“Good morning, Byleth,” Rhea whispers as she nuzzles against her. 

“Mmm,” Byleth murmurs. “Good morning, Rhea.”

Rhea is pleased when they kiss each other on the lips. She tries to hide her eagerness, but Byleth knows her too well. Byleth parts her lips as they kiss, inviting Rhea to go deeper. She accepts, slipping in her tongue, but holds herself back from being lost in it. She chuckles at how disappointed Byleth looks as she pulls away. 

“I love you, Byleth, and while I would enjoy laying in bed to kiss you all morning, we have a big day ahead of us.”

“I love you too, Rhea.” Byleth smiles and sits up. “Let’s go get married.”

~

Ever since Rhea and Byleth had exchanged rings and told their friends and family of their intent to marry, their wedding has been the subject of intensive debate and planning. As they were both introverts by natural inclination, the two women had discussed the possibility of a small ceremony, just for those closest to them. However, the marriage of the future Queen of Fódlan and the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros was not something that could conceivably be held on anything less than a grand scale. Such a union would effectively merge the secular and religious authorities of the continent, and would join together the two most beloved figures in Fódlan. 

It was Flayn’s argument that truly won them over however. People need to remember how to celebrate and be joyful, she had said. The war took so much from everyone, they need to remember what happiness feels like. There was no arguing against that, and since then Rhea and Byleth had been so caught up in their own duties that they had been happy to leave the monumental task of organization to others.

With the day finally arrived, they allow themselves to be swept along in the current. After a wash and a short breakfast, Rhea gives Byleth a quick kiss before the other woman is bustled away to get ready. The wedding itself is begins late in the morning, with the reception afterward stretching late into that evening. Byleth had made sure to go to sleep early the previous day, but Rhea is still somewhat worried about the other woman’s stamina. 

Once Byleth leaves, Rhea is alone for only a moment in her chamber before Flayn, already in her own bridesmaid dress, quietly slips in through the door. Rhea stands from the table she had been eating at and, smiling, opens her arms wide for an embrace. Flayn looks around the room suspiciously, in a way that is probably meant to be surreptitious, to check for anyone else. When she confirms that it’s just the two of them she runs into Rhea’s arms to give her a tight hug.

“Congratulations, Auntie Rhea,” Flayn says with a wide grin. “I could not be more happy for you.”

“Thank you, Flayn,” Rhea says as she leans down to place an affection kiss on the girl’s cheek. “I wish we could have time to speak to one another in private like this, but we must start getting ready.”

They busy themselves for the next hour getting Rhea ready for the ceremony. As they work, they discuss the day’s itinerary and schedule, mostly devised by Seteth. At last, Rhea opens the wardrobe where she has been keeping her wedding dress. She has only worn it once before, when they were making sure it fit properly, and truthfully, she is somewhat nervous to put it on again. 

“Is something wrong, Auntie Rhea?” Flayn asks, peering around her. “Surely, there is no problem with the dress, is there?”

“Not at all, it’s just,” Rhea mumbles as she disrobes, attempting to hide her embarrassment, “I’m not sure if a dress like this suits me.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Flayn scolds. “I’ve seen you in it already, and you look gorgeous!”

“Yes, but,” Rhea blushed as she began to put the dress on with Flayn’s help, “did Byleth really have to choose on like this for me?”

Flayn tilts her head quizzically as she examines it. “I don’t see what you mean. It doesn’t look that different than the dress you usually wear. This one even covers your shoulders.”

“But it doesn’t have a cape! I fell more exposed without one.”

“While I can understand your sentiment, most dresses don’t come with capes, Auntie Rhea.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she sighs.

Rhea sits down and does her own makeup. It had been quite some time since she had done so, but she still remembers easily. As she works, Flayn brushes out her hair and ties it up behind her in a bun, showing her neck.

“Will it truly be safe for you to show your ears?” Flayn asks, tucking away a loose strand of Rhea’s hair.

Rhea considers the question. There are deeper connotations to it than Flayn might realize. It is, in essence, a question of whether or not the Nabateans must continue to hide themselves, or if they can reveal themselves to Fódlan once again. The girl had never known a time when her family could be open about what they are. A part of Rhea wants to continue to hide the truth, but she need only to think of Byleth for her fear to leave her.

“I think, Flayn,” Rhea responds with a warm smile, “that a time has come where we may do many things we were once afraid to do. I think the Fódlan Byleth will rule is not one we need fear.” 

Rhea rises again, only to feel Flayn tugs at her sleeve. “If it’s not too much trouble, Auntie Rhea,” Flayn asks, blushing, “could you put some makeup on me as well?”

“I’m fairly sure Seteth has prohibited you from wearing makeup ‘until you’re older,’” Rhea says, not attempting to hide her smile.

“I’m over a thousand years old,” the girl groans, “how much older must I be?”

“That is a good point,” Rhea chuckles, “and he isn’t here right now. Besides, today is a very special occasion. Sit down.”

Rhea has to remind Flayn to sit still several times as she fidgets in her chair excitedly. Rhea doesn’t put too much on Flayn, the young nabatean’s naturally sweet face not requiring it, but she does use a small amount of blush to bring out the rosiness of the girl’s cheeks and adorns her lips with the same coral pink she uses herself.

“There you are,” Rhea says, putting on the finishing touches and smiling fondly. “Remind me to teach you how to do it yourself sometime.”

As Flayn examines her makeup eagerly in a mirror, Rhea picks up the crown of the Archbishop from its stand where she had placed it the night before. She is about to place it upon her head, as she has done so often over the years, but, remembering a promise, smiles and puts it down again. It was something she and Byleth had discussed one night as they had laid together. It was Byleth’s idea to be married before she was crowned as queen of Fódlan and Rhea had agreed, promising not to wear her crown or any of her regalia to the wedding. Byleth and Rhea will not be married to one another as Queen and Archbishop, but merely as two women who love one another very, very much.

“It is almost time, Auntie Rhea,” Flayn says as she looks out a window at the throng of people in the monastery below. “Are you ready?”

Rhea wants nothing more than to run to Byleth as fast as she can, but she pauses for a moment to collect herself. She has no heart to pound from within her chest, but her pulse quickens in excitement and anticipation. Her ears catch the faint notes of music beginning to be played in the cathedral and her nose picks up the scent of the countless flowers that decorate every inch of Garreg Mach. She breathes in, out, and in again.

“I’m ready, Flayn. Thank you for all of your help. It means a great deal to me that you agreed to be my bridesmaid.”

“It was a request I was only too happy to accept, Auntie Rhea.” Flayn grins and gives Rhea’s hand a squeeze.

Her nerves tense with excitement, Rhea makes her way down the stairs of the monastery’s reception hall with Flayn at her side. The second floor, normally abuzz with activity, is silent. All who would normally be carrying out their work in the offices of library are outside, celebrating this blessed day. The first floor is equally silent, although Rhea sees little of it. The doors to the main hall are firmly closed. The wedding reception for such an occasion is so large that it is to be held across the grounds of the Garreg Mach, but the main ceremony will take place within the closed doors, and no entrants are permitted inside until then. The door leading to the bridge to the cathedral is similarly closed, but even through the thick wood, Rhea can hear the sounds of the crowd outside. 

“Here, Auntie Rhea,” Flayn says as Rhea is about to open the door, “take these.” 

She picks up what Rhea had at first thought to be a decorative wreath of what flowers from where they had been carefully placed and offers them with a wide smile. A bouquet and a circlet, both made from the white lilies Rhea usually used to adorn her hair.

“The bouquet is a must at weddings, but the circlet was the idea of one of the Professor’s students, Hilda of House Goneril. She said that since the Professor isn’t crowned yet and you won’t be wearing your own either, you could both wear flower crowns.”

Rhea smiles at the thoughtfulness of Byleth’s students, and marvels at her ability to win the affection of others so easily. She places the circlet upon her hear and takes a moment to savor the scent of the flowers. 

“It’s a beautiful suggestion. I’ll have to make sure to send her my thanks.”

She draws in one last breath as Flayn readies to open the door leading to the cathedral. 

“All right. Open the door, Flayn. I’m ready.”

Byleth stands on the near side of the bridge, gazing at the massive throng of guests crowding around the cathedral on the bridge’s other side. She turns when she hears the door open and Rhea’s chest flutters as the other woman beams at her. Byleth’s dress is a near match of her own, simple but beautifully made. Her mint green hair is tied into a long braid down her back, and a crown of lilies rests on her head, just like Rhea’s. The cheers of the crowd are almost deafening, but Rhea can’t hear them.

“Hello, Rhea.” Byleth’s smile is so bright that Rhea swears it outshines the sun. “You look beautiful.”

Byleth offers her hand and Rhea gently takes it into her own. Their fingers intertwine as they step closer to one another.

“As do you,” Rhea whispers in return. “We should hurry. I don’t know how long I can wait before I can’t resist kissing you.”

Rhea and Byleth walk across the bridge hand in hand. Guests on both the cathedral’s side of the bridge and those crowding on either side of the Garreg Mach’s reception hall cheer again, even louder than before. Rhea holds her bouquet close to her chest but Byleth waves at a few people in the crowd she recognizes. Rhea wonders about this for a moment. While the plazas on either side of the cathedral give a view of the bridge to the rest of the monastery, they are distant enough that Byleth picking out individuals among the mass of people should be impossible to anyone without a spyglass. Or eyesight as good as a Nabatean’s. However, the though stays with her for only a second. Each step toward the cathedral heightens both Rhea’s nerves and her anticipation. Finally, they reach the other side and walk beneath the open portcullis. The short distance between the cathedral’s doors and the steps to the bridge have been roped off, but the celebrants still try to get as close as they can to cheer their support. Rhea squeezes Byleth’s hand as another wave of cheers washed over them.

Seteth stands just outside of the cathedral’s great doors and pushes them open to allow them to pass. Her brother’s formal attire isn’t much different from what he typically wears, Rhea notes as her eyes narrow slightly. He still gets to wear his cape... However, any envy she might feel toward him melts away when he smiles at her and Byleth. It’s a smile she hasn’t seen for a very, very long time, in happier days the memories of which she has had to fight to cling on to. 

“Congratulations, you two,” Seteth whispers, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Everyone would be so proud of you.” It’s all he can say to them as they walk by, but in that moment, those words carry the weight of eons and the memory of kin long since passed.

The rubble within the cathedral had only just finished being cleared. Rhea still feels some chagrin at having narrowly avoided smashing an even bigger whole in the roof, but she’s too happy to let it bother her. The pews are filled with high ranking members of the church, prestigious nobles, the Knights of Seiros, and Byleth’s comrades and students. Many more stand at the walls of the cathedral and within its side doors. The church’s choir and musicians pour the hearts and souls into their music as the two women walk up the aisle. Rhea is no stranger to being the center of attention of hundreds of people, but the collective weight of their gazes makes her nervous. She can notice many of the guests’ reactions to her uncovered ears, although she is relieved that none seem hostile.

“Nervous?” Byleth asks in a whisper, giving Rhea a sidelong glance and a small squeeze to the hand.

“Not as much as I would be without you beside me,” Rhea whispers back and returns the squeeze.

There had been a small skirmish between the bishops over who would preside over the ceremony. It was eventually decided that the oldest and longest serving bishop to bear the Crest of Seiros would have that honor, as befitted his seniority, and not because he boasted a formidable right hook. 

Rhea and Byleth face one another as they reach the altar. The bishop begins his prepared speech, but Rhea can’t hear him. She can’t hear the musicians or the choir, she can’t hear the low rumble of the mass of people pressing every available space within the cathedral. The only person that exists in the whole world is Byleth, the woman she is about to wed, standing before her. 

Byleth smiles up at her sheepishly, and mouths a single word.

Relax.

~

After the ceremony Rhea and Byleth move into the reception hall for their first dance as a married couple. The wedding reception itself is too massive to be confined to one building and is spread across the entire monastery, and has even spilled into the town below. 

Rhea takes her wife’s hands into her own as the music starts and their dance begins. Her relationship with Byleth hasn’t changed at all from how it was that morning or even the day before, but being married to her now still feels different. It isn’t something she can properly put words around, but gazing into her eyes and having Byleth, her wife, look back at her makes it feel as though a weight she never knew had carried has been lifted. 

“You know,” Byleth whispers as they continue their dance, soft enough so that only Rhea can hear her, “I think this is one of the two things I was looking forward to most today. I really wished I could’ve danced with you back during the Establishment Day ball the year I came here, but I never got the chance to ask you.” Her cheeks flush an adorable pink. “I’m glad we’re doing it now.”

Rhea breaks into wide, open smile. Her wife really is just too sweet. “Then we’ll have to have make sure to have one at the next ball. It feels like such a long time ago now, when the most any of the students had to worry about was which house would be winning the White Heron Cup or if they could get someone they fancied to dance with them,” she chuckles. “But tell me, what else have you been most looking forward to, aside from dancing together.”

Byleth blushes as the music fades and the dance ends. She quickly stands on her toes to whisper into Rhea’s ear. “Our first night as newly weds. I don’t have any experience, so I’m a bit nervous. I’ll still try to do my best for you, Rhea.”

Byleth’s whispered words almost make Rhea freeze in place, but she quickly recovers and joins Byleth in a bow to the assembled guests. Her mind races in the midst of thunderous applause. She has been anticipating their wedding night as much as Byleth, but she is now forced to come to a realization she berates herself for not considering much sooner. 

Neither Rhea nor Byleth have ever been in a relationship before, and they will be going into their first night together absolutely no sexual experience between them. 

They have shared a bed together since her rampage and the Resistance Army’s final battle at Garreg Mach, but everything they have done together has been completely chaste. Both Rhea and Byleth have known they wanted more than just kissing, but weren’t prepared just yet for anything more intense. Rhea has been nervous about taking that step in physical intimacy as much as Byleth and hasn’t had the foresight to actually consider what precisely they would be doing.

After their bow Rhea quickly turns back to Byleth to speak with her, but the other woman misinterprets has expression and gets on her toes to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. Rhea flushes again, and that moment of pause is enough for them to be surrounded by friends and comrades hoping for a dance themselves. It happens so fast that Byleth only has time to give Rhea a quick thumbs up before taking the hand of Alois, the new captain of the nights. Rhea is somewhat alarmed at the sudden change of pace when Seteth takes her hand as the music starts again.

“Rhea, is something the matter,” Seteth whispers in hushed tones, quickly catching on to her distressed expression. 

“It’s fine, Seteth,” Rhea reassures, putting on a comforting smile she only somewhat felt. “It’s just a minor concern, and I don’t think you’d be able to help me with it.”

Her brother’s face becomes stern. “Rhea,” he gently scolds, “you have shouldered fare to many ‘minor concerns’ in your life, and it’s never been healthy for you or the people who care for you.” Seteth’s expression softens as Rhea winces. “This wedding is a new start for everyone in Fódlan, including you. It’s perfectly all right for you to ask for help. Even if I can’t give it to you, I’m sure someone can.”

“Thank you,” Rhea sighs and looks up fondly at her younger brother. “You’re right, as you so often are. This is something I’ll have to ask help for.”

“Very good,” Seteth says, exhaling a breath in relief before smiling again. “Words cannot express how happy I am for you, Rhea. If you need anything from me, all you have to do is ask.”

When the song comes to an end and it’s time to change partners again, Rhea finds Catherine standing before her. “May I have this dance, Lady Rhea?” she asks, with a smile of mixed happiness and sadness.

“I would be delighted, Catherine.” Rhea answers with a deep affection in her voice. Catherine is somewhat hesitant to touch her, but Rhea confidently leads her into the dance’s movements.

“Congratulations, Lady Rhea,” Catherine murmurs with tears just starting to form in the corners of her eyes. “You couldn’t have found a better partner. You deserve every bit of happiness she can give you.” She flushes slightly and turns her gaze away. “I apologize if that was too familiar.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Catherine,” Rhea laughs. “I knew you when you were just a student at the academy. A little informality on a day such as this won’t hurt anyone.”

Catherine grins bashfully. “There isn’t much someone like me can do for you on your wedding day, Lady Rhea, but if you need anything from me, just ask.”

Rhea turns the offer over in her thoughts. She has just promised Seteth she would ask for advice, but the amount of people she could actually go to was depressingly small. As kind as she’s always tried to be, Rhea has to admit she never cultivated an air of approachability, and that has put herself at a distance to most people. That’s always served her well in the past, but she acknowledges that it’s only made things harder for her in the long run. 

The Archbishop of the Church of Seiros could not go up to simply anyone and ask them how to make love to her wife. Rhea will have to find a woman who was “familiar” with other women and who is on speaking terms with both Byleth and herself. It can’t be any of the nuns in the church; Byleth has been working with the clergy recently but her relationships with them so far are purely professional. One of Byleth’s students might be a better choice, as Rhea knows for a fact that many of the young women Byleth taught are in relationships with one another, but the archbishop asking them how to bed their former teacher would be, not to put to fine a point on it, inappropriate. 

Manuela is a possible option. Rhea holds a great deal of respect for the teacher and she has fought alongside Byleth for years. However, asking Manuela for relationship advice, especially when she was a guest at Rhea and Byleth’s own wedding, is perhaps not the best idea. While the woman has many, many admirable qualities, she does have room for improvement in certain respects. There was Catherine herself, of course. However, Rhea is perfectly aware of the knight’s feelings regarding her, and asking her about something like this would not be an especially kind thing to do. 

That leaves only one option, really...

“There is something I would really appreciate your help with, Catherine,” Rhea says as she smiles somewhat nervously.

“Whatever it is, you can leave it to me,” Catherine responds, brightening immediately.

“Do you know happen to know where Shamir is?”

~

After hours of politely receiving congratulations, gifts, and well-wishes with Byleth from their guests, Rhea is finally able to gradually make her way to the terrace near the cemetery Catherine had told her she could find Shamir. The other woman is enjoying the sunshine in a corner away from the crowds and taking occasional sips from a glass of wine. She looks up when she notices Rhea approaching and acknowledges her with a small nod.

“Rhea. Congratulations.”

Shamir’s disregard for formality is something Rhea has always appreciated, now more so than ever. Shamir has always respected Rhea for who she is as a person, rather than for her position. The knight has also fought alongside numerous battles alongside Byleth, and is one of her wife’s closest comrades. Rhea also knows exactly how she and Catherine get their bruises and, on Catherine’s part, the occasional bite mark during their “one on one training”.

“Shamir, I need your advice.” Rhea isn’t sure how much time she has for the two of them to speak alone, so she comes right out and asks her for help.

Shamir raises an eyebrow. “It’s your wedding, so I suppose I can help. What’s bothering you?” She raises the glass to her lips for another sip of wine.

Rhea takes a deep breath in and a deep breath out. Her cheeks flush as she looks Shamir in the eye. “It my wedding night, but neither Byleth nor I have ever been in a physical or romantic relationship. How do I make sure we have a good first time?”

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Shamir finishes her wine, and places the glass on a parapet overlooking the ravine behind the monastery before responding. “Haven’t the two of you been sleeping together since the war ended?”

Rhea blushes even deeper. “We’ve been sleeping with one another but not sleeping _with_ one another. We wanted to wait until we got married.”

“How pure,” Shamir snorts. “The two of you really have no experience? I’m a little surprised by the Professor, but aren’t you supposed to be really old? I admit, I’m still not clear on all the details about that.”

Rhea takes a deep breath to try to calm herself. This is something she never would’ve been honest about until just recently, but she’s sworn to be more open and truthful to people. 

“This coming Guardian Moon, I will be three thousand eight hundred and thirty seven years old.”

Shamir blinks. She picks up her wine glass again and scrutinizes it in the vain hope that there might be some left. “An almost four thousand year old virgin is asking me for the sex advice. I don’t if that’s funny or sad. Actually, I take it back, that’s hilarious.” 

Rhea reddens as Shamir chuckles. “If you won’t help I can find Catherine and ask her.”

“That would also be hilarious.” Shamir smirks and waves a hand in apology. “Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me. If you want the talk I’ll give you the talk. General advice first. The most important thing is to listen to what each of you have to say. Communication is important. Make sure you both let the other know what feels good and what doesn’t feel good. Other than that, just go with the flow and explore a bit. You’re both gorgeous with knock out bodies, so I’m honestly surprised the two of you haven’t done it sooner.”

Rhea gets more and more embarrassed as Shamir continues her instruction, but she is nonetheless glad to get it. After a few minutes Shamir begins to go into a level of detail Rhea can’t help but find fascinating and intimidating in equal detail. The other woman’s gestures and arm movements are particularly intriguing and nerve wracking. She’s finally rescued when Flayn comes to find her.

“There you are Au- Lady Rhea,” She quickly corrects herself when she sees Shamir. “We were all wondering where you had gotten to. It’s getting late and it’s time to throw the bouquet and then the banquet will start.

Rhea looks up. The sky has grown noticeably dimmer and a few stars are beginning to make their entrance, as though they were late guests. She allows Flayn to pull her to the reception hall as Shamir follows behind them.

“Why does the bouquet need to be thrown?” 

“It’s a tradition in some parts of Fódlan,” Flayn answers as the three of them return to the crowds of guests. “They say whoever catches the bouquet when it’s thrown at a wedding will get married soon.”

Shamir scoffs. “That’s an odd tradition. In Dagda, the people at a wedding who get married next are usually the ones who get too drunk and have to get hitched for decency’s sake.” She throws a conspiratorial wink that completely flies over Flayn’s head but makes Rhea blush. 

The three women enter the reception hall and Rhea hurries to where Byleth waits for her at doors that lead to the central hall. She is sharing hugs with some of her former students, many of whom are crying. They bow and pay their respects as Rhea approaches before hurrying off. Byleth smiles as her wife takes her place beside her and their hands clasp together. Rhea can’t help but notice how tires Byleth looks and how her wife has to fight to keep from yawning.

“Hello, Rhea.” She stands on her toes to kiss her on the cheek again. “Where’d you get off to?”

“Oh, just talking with Shamir,” Rhea answers, trying to be nonchalant. “I hadn’t seen her all day.”

Byleth’s eyes scan the crowd and rest on where Shamir takes a place next to Catherine. She raises the bouquet of lilies in her unoccupied hand to cover their mouths as she leans up to steal another kiss, this time on Rhea’s lips. The crowd cheers appreciatively as Byleth grins and Rhea blushes.

“Where do you think I should throw it?” Byleth asks, still hiding their faces behind the flowers.

Rhea glances over to Catherine and Shamir. The two knights look as though they are arguing in their usual manner, the type of argument that everyone who knows them recognizes immediately as a thin facade for something else. Rhea allows herself to smile deviously as she whispers into Byleth’s ear.

“Oh, that could be a good idea.” Byleth grins as she judges distance and winds her arm up behind her head. 

“HEY CATHERINE THINK FAST!” 

Catherine manages to let out a “Whuh?” before the ballistic flowers slam into her face. The flowers leave her unharmed but dazed enough to not react as the bouquet drops to the floor. Shamir instinctively reaches out her arms, one to support her partner and the other to catch the bouquet. The other guests cheer as Catherine and Shamir stare at each other and both flush in sudden embarrassment before turning to glare at Rhea and Byleth. The two newlyweds laugh and take a bow amid thunderous cheers and applause. 

“I wish I could stay longer,” Byleth apologizes to Rhea sheepishly, “but I think I really need to call it a night.” 

“Of course, Byleth,” Rhea reassures. “No one will think less of you for turning in early. We’ve had a long day.”

“Would,” Byleth begins before clearing her throat and looking up at Rhea, her cheeks red and her expression a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “Would you like to join me?”

Rhea’s flushes as well. Her hand tightens around Byleth’s and the other woman squeezes back.

“I would.”

Hand in hand, Rhea and Byleth ask for their guests to continue the celebration without them, wave one last goodbye, and return to their room for their first night as wife and wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I really last updated this back in January. Lot can happen in ten month, huh? Still I'm glad I was able to have this finished for the first day of Rhealeth Week. I've got a follow up to this that I hope to have finished soon, but I wanted to make sure I had this at least done for today. I'm still not used to writing in the present tense, so sorry if the grammar's a bit messy.


End file.
